


Of Myths and Legends

by Crucified_To_A_Star



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angst, Druids, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mutual Pining, Sirens, Slow Burn, Theres NO nsfd in this, Vampires, Werewolves, also there will be tags added as this continues, and there will never be nsfd in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crucified_To_A_Star/pseuds/Crucified_To_A_Star
Summary: Intertwined by their misfortunes and isolation, the Underworld's inhabitants all share the same fate; live for eternity or die by the hands of a hunter.Aka: ot21 NCT lives in a fantasy AU and is split between different species all with the goal of surviving the hunters.





	Of Myths and Legends

**Author's Note:**

> So, big notice is is that I have no idea where this is going, just that I really wanted to write it. Please understand that the tags will change as the story progresses and that ratings may change. If there's anything potentially triggering in the chapter I will put a TW:// in the author's note at the beginning, along with whatever chapters may or may not contain smut.  
Also, there won't be any NSFD in here, if that's a concern. I would never write NSFD ;-;  
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

How long had they been at this? Not just in the current moment, but in the length of time they had known each other. How many times had Doyoung’s lips dragged over the softer, warm skin of Taeyong’s neck? It had been ages since they had met, centuries nearly leading into a millennia. They had migrated the world together, watched civilizations form and grow, some populations flourishing and others dying off. Taeyong had always stopped, always helped where he could. Doyoung encouraged their consistent movement and lack of interference, however Taeyong never listened. Taeyong was soft, kind; a gentle soul made specifically for helping. It was his nature as a Druid, his calling. He was made to protect and heal, to be a guardian of the living. Doyoung admired his ability to handle the constant pressure, but Taeyong assured that the only pressure was the guilt of abandoning those in need. Doyoung, on the other hand, was created; he was forced into his being, forced out of the life he had had. Being a vampire wasn’t as life-ending as humans made it sound. He could eat food, he could still feel, he could still wander in the sun and visit those he loved; now he was just forced to do it for eternity and he did it all on borrowed existence.  
He had stumbled across Taeyong a century or two after his turning, beginning for help from the priest; begging for a cure or a way to stop killing. He had no answers and no help, his sire fleeing after his fledgling stage was completed. Doyoung remembered very little about that time now, but he would never forget how beautiful Taeyong had looked draped in heavy maroon silks and gold tracing his skin. He remembered how he cried when Taeyong said he would help him and how Taeyong had yet to abandon him. Taeyong had been by his side since, their relationship slowly evolving. Taeyong became his guidance and Doyoung became his protection; after all, despite Taeyong being a pacifist and a gentle soul, his line of work came with a side of violence. Taeyong saved Doyoung and in return Doyoung kept him protected.  
Taeyong gasped as Doyoung dragged his fangs gently across the delicate skin. There was a bite at the apex of his neck and shoulder, nearing his clavicle. It was a permanent mark, placed deliberately; it let other vampires who may get too close to know that he was claimed. It was a heavy mark to have placed; not every vampire could mark someone and only those with the ability to sire were able. Doyoung was an Elite, being well respected amongst the Clave once he was familiarized with it. Another thing he could thank Taeyong for. Doyoung had never heard of the Clave prior to Taeyong, otherwise known as the institution that enacted the laws and regulations of vampires. Doyoung’s sire had been a fugitive, a rebel, and had created Doyoung outside of the law. Doyoung would forever be indebted to Taeyong for giving him the life he had now.  
“It’s been a while since you last fed,” Taeyong’s voice was breathy, no vibrations coming from his throat as he spoke beneath Doyoung, “Perhaps it’s time again.”  
“Perhaps,” Doyoung repeated, fangs dragging again. Taeyong loved Doyoung feeding from him as much as Doyoung enjoyed it, the process addicting. Once marked, Taeyong craved Doyoung as much as Doyoung craved Taeyong. They were bound now, the same venom running through Taeyong’s veins as Doyoung’s. A part of Doyoung would always be within him, always be a part of him. They couldn’t part now, though Doyoung doubted they ever would have regardless.  
Taeyong smelled like fruit; his blood sweet and filled Doyoung’s senses like a heavy nectar. Druid blood was always sweeter than others and always tinged with gold. Doyoung had always joked that it was because they were the priests of the Underworld, the holiest parts of the darkest corners; their blood was the baptismal waters. Taeyong would always roll his eyes and say it was the magic.  
“Please,” Taeyong managed to plead once more and who was Doyoung to deny him? He pulled back to stare down at him. The man was as fair as Doyoung though the blood had flushed his cheeks and nose, his hair currently white and stark against the black satin sheets, eyes dark and blown and glassy. His features were sharp and angular and unique and Doyoung was once again amazed that he had been able to mark someone as flawless as Taeyong, someone as perfect. He couldn’t believe that Taeyong was his for eternity.  
“Anything for you, my love.” Doyoung responded with a soft kiss to the nose, before his mouth found his neck again. When his fangs pierced the soft flesh Taeyong bowed and Doyoung’s hips found his. Doyoung would never tire of this. 

Jungwoo sat in class, tapping his pencil against his notebook gently, quietly. Today, he was dressed incredibly casually; his white tee shirt tucked into his light wash blue jeans, accessorized only by his black belt and black shoes and the couple rings on his finger. His blue cardigan was hung on the back of his chair, the fabric too warm for inside the school, but perfect for the chilly afternoon air. Jungwoo didn’t do well in the cold, his craving for heat and warmth always lingering under his skin, but autumn was here and with it brought colder than preferred weather. Fire Fae’s always hated winter, but he was certain Chenle, a Water Fae, was going to be thriving here soon with the inevitable showers.  
He sat in a botany class currently, one of his favorite subjects; biology was where he thrived and he absolutely adored plants. He wasn’t sure how much of it was his own personality and how much of it was his own nature, but his affinity with plants was what gave him joy in life. This botany class, however, was one of his least favorites he had taken. The cause was sat two tables away, closest to the window.  
Moon Taeil.  
He was a handsome man, square jaw, broad and stocky. He had a soothing and deep voice and a bright smile, with dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. He was sculpted perfection, honestly, always in leather and jeans. However, Jungwoo knew under the leather he stashed daggers and silver powder; he always had prayer beads strung around his neck and he never went anywhere without the liquid mercury pills.  
He was a Hunter.  
Jungwoo was in danger around him and he knew it, so he avoided the man at all costs. He wasn’t sure if he was a sport-hunter or a freelance killer, but he knew enough to stay away from him. He still remembered the first time he saw Taeil; he was enamoured upon first glance, but the quick shift of the leather that revealed the outline of the dagger pressed into his side told Jungwoo all he needed to know. Since then he had noticed all the signs, could practically smell the silver he carried; metallic and sharp.  
The worst part was that he knew Taeil was interested in him, the other always attempting to make small talk, always glancing over. Jungwoo knew it would be incredibly suspicious if he left the class, so he just continued to put up a shy front and barely respond to the other man.  
He could always just sit there for that two hour lecture, praying Taeil never found out. 

Jisung was perched with his eyes just above the water, his dusty pink hair soaked as usual, sticking to his forehead and lingering in his eyesight. He was watching the Water Fae on the shoreline again, studying his movements. He had blonde hair that was occasionally curly, stunningly sharp features and dark eyes, with immaculate pale skin. Jisung was at least five shades darker, especially when in human form, and Jisung was always amazed that someone who spent so much time in the sun could be as pale as he was.  
Jisung’s tail was swaying under the lagoon’s water, keeping him just barely afloat. He was hoping to remain inconspicuous, undetected by the Fae. He had been watching him for ages now, always captivated by the Fae’s existence. He always came to the shores and settled in the grainy sand, playing with the crabs that made their home in the lagoon. During low tide he would play in the tide pools, making friends with the anemones and singing songs to the other oceanic wildlife that got trapped there. He never interfered with the tidepools cycles and never helped the animals out of them, something Jisung was always amazed with. He respected the ecosystem and their cycles, instead choosing to befriend every animal that passed, predators included. Jisung had watched several times as seagulls had landed and plucked fish out of the tidepools with the Fae watching closely.  
Jisung was enthralled, to say the least.  
An unexpectedly heavy wave hit Jisung from behind, causing him to duck under. Inevitably, his tail splashed up behind him, a quick glint of silvery blue. He was panicking over the idea that the Fae caught him, counting to ten before resurfacing just barely. He regretted the decision instantly, the Fae’s eyes meeting his as soon as he surfaced and Jisung squeaked, dropping under the water and swimming away quickly.  
Jisung knew once he made it back to Jaehyun, his podmate, that he was going to be in trouble. Jaehyun could always smell the anxiousness that Jisung radiated after watching the Fae and he always warned him against getting involved in the land-dweller’s business. He always told him that they were bad news and should be avoided and Jisung always listened. He just couldn’t help watching the Fae on the shoreline.

“Lucas, how does this look?” Ten asked, holding a mesh brocade patterned long sleeved shirt up. They were in a large changing booth together, Lucas having come in to help his boyfriend decide on clothing.  
“It looks like something a vampire would wear.” Lucas said flatly, yelping when Ten kicked his shin. “I’m joking, I’m joking, I love it! It suits your style. I think it would be a good choice.” His smile was wide, eyes dark and puppy-like.  
Ten felt his heart stutter. They’d been dating for a few years, such a minimal amount of time in both of their lives, but Ten genuinely appreciated Lucas’s existence. The werewolf was kind hearted and fun, bringing a light into Ten’s life that hadn’t existed before. Ten was a relatively young vampire, only having been sired two hundred years ago and taken into Doyoung’s clan within the past one hundred years. It was there that he felt a sense of normalcy, a sense of belonging, that he hadn’t had in any other clan he had attempted to join. He supposed the ancient vampiric saying “of trust to no bloodlines” wasn’t fodder afterall, rather choosing the clan for its habitants than it’s bloodlines. Doyoung was a good leader and an Elite at that; Ten had chosen the best clan, suited to his style. It had just felt right.  
However, Ten often went through depressions at the idea of living for eternity and also the fear of what he was. There were times where he still had breakdowns and called himself a monster, though those were seldom nowadays. After meeting Lucas, he could only remember having one such breakdown, though, and Lucas held him through the whole thing, coaxing him out of it. Ten would never forget how Lucas had soothed his biggest insecurities or the way that Lucas had known exactly what to say during it. Ten had been convinced that Lucas wouldn’t understand because werewolves didn’t have to kill to survive, but Lucas had taken it in stride and said that neither did vampires. Lucas had just seemed to know the right thing to say for everything that Ten was afraid of. Now, Lucas reassured him daily without any breakdowns being necessary.  
Lucas truly was his light in the dark. “You know I love you, right?” Ten beamed at Lucas’s words. The wolf was a ball of affection, consistently showing it and expressing it, always looking for new ways to show Ten how much he cared. From love letters to dinners to picture collages. Every time Ten was convinced the other would run out of ideas, he always found a new one. He had once said that he loved Pinterest and that because of that site he would never run out of things to do.  
“I love you, too.”  
“Now, next shirt!” Lucas waved hurriedly, “My best guess is that it’s going to be something black.”  
Ten kicked him in the shin again, earning another yelp.

Renjun was standing in the potions room, struggling to figure out if the spellbook was asking for a sage or lavender leaf when Jaemin meandered in. Jaemin was one of Doyoung’s clanmates, a tall and lean boy of a man that was sired too young in life. Jaemin was the youngest clanmate Doyoung had, only having been turned ten years ago. Renjun, too, was on the younger side; he had only hit what Taeyong sympathetically called the “Druid puberty” about two years ago, learning only now how to control his powers. He was currently working on potion mixing and learning how to read ancient celtic. The words were completely foreign and hard to figure out, so he often fell into trying to follow the faded ink splotches of leaf patterns in order to figure out what he was doing in the meantime.  
“Need help?” Jaemin offered, the wide smile ever present on his face. He was always so bright and alive looking, despite the way his heart only beat after feeding.  
Renjun looked away, back to his spellbook. “As if you can read Celtic.”  
“I can!” Jaemin boasted, coming over quickly, crowing Renjun against the counter as he leaned over his shoulder. “That’s asking for lavender.”  
Renjun rolled his eyes and closed the book quickly, smacking him in the chest with it. “You’re taking a guess. Leave me to my potion brewing. I need to get this right, I keep messing it up.”  
“It’s a lavender leaf! I promise! I know what lavender looks like.” Jaemin let his tongue lick gently over his fang and Renjun rolled his eyes at the unconscious habit. Jaemin only ever did it when he was teasing Renjun, a habit of his when he got excited at bothering the Druid.  
“Let me be, Jaemin. Potion brewing isn’t a joke. I could kill someone with this.” Renjun was chastising him and he would’ve continued had Taeyong not ducked through the wooden bead curtains and into the potion brewing area. The room itself was lined with floor to ceiling cupboards full of jars. There was ivy growing across the glass and wood, occasionally weaving into the cupboards where a pane was broken. Renjun and Jaemin were on the opposite end of the room, pressed against the one workstation that sat under a half cupboard. There was a tiny wooden stove, a large cauldron, and many small vials and carafes, with a couple stone pestle and mortars in various sizes.  
“What are you guys arguing about now?” Taeyong asked. He was dressed in his robes; long cream colored silk ones with gold filigree lacing the fabrics, the sleeves tight against his thin arms and the dress making him look taller than he was. The collar of his white turtleneck popped out of the clasped top and as he walked, white jeans were visible on his legs that occasionally brushed out. He was wearing faded gold ankle boots that gave him a slight bit of height, though he remained just shorter than Jaemin and just taller than Renjun. He looked like a genuine angel and in some ways he was. Renjun understood why Doyoung would always call him words like angel and holy. It was moments like these that he completely understood.  
“He doesn’t know if it’s lavender or sage and I told him it was lavender, but he doesn’t believe me.” There was a pout to Jaemin’s voice as he snatched the book from Renjun and opened it to the bookmarked page.  
“That’s a good thing he didn’t believe you because that’s sage.” Taeyong closed the book and set it on the counter. Renjun heaved and reached into the cabinet, pulling out the jar of dried sage and dropping two leaves into the warm cauldron. The heavy scent of the herb filled the space momentarily, before dissipating into the mixture. “Never trust a vampire on their ingredient opinions. They’re always wrong.”  
“I heard that,” Doyoung said, poking his head into the room, face surrounded by the beads, “And I am never wrong. I just like to test your knowledge.”  
“Whatever you say, dear.” Taeyong teased back, his voice light and airy. Doyoung squinted, but said nothing else, ducking out of the curtain, letting the strings clack together in his absence. “Jaemin, go do something better with your time than hover over Renjun. I’m sure Doyoung has chores for you. Renjun seems to need another celtic lesson.”  
Rejun’s eyes were practically begging Jaemin not to leave, but Jaemin just gave him an apologetic smile. Renjun understood as the vampires had a hierarchy they were required to follow, and while he could occasionally get away with innocently ignoring Doyoung, Doyoung would never let him disrespect Taeyong in any form. So, with an understanding nod, Jaemin bid them both a farewell, disappearing after his patriarch.  
“You’re awfully smitten by him,” Taeyong commented, innocently stirring the pot, both figuratively and literally. His smile was innocent and dark eyes starry under the lighting.  
“I am not,” Renjun countered instantly, crossing his arms. “He’s just a good friend.”  
Taeyong hummed, but changed the topic, “This potion is looking wonderful, however I’m concerned on your Celtic reading. It’s something incredibly important in being a Druid, that you be able to read your native tongue.”  
Renjun nodded, “I know, Friar, but it’s going to take time. I’m working hard, I promise.”  
“You’re doing wonderful, Renjun. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s incredibly hard. I think we could just use more tutoring and lessons together. You’ll get it in no time, I have faith in you.” Taeyong was speaking genuinely as he always did and Renjun felt his heart swell. He just wished he had the same faith in himself. 

Mark was sat cross-legged on the floor next to Johnny, eyes focused on the racing video game they had been playing for a couple of hours now. Mark would occasionally curse and he’d throw his whole body into moving the controller around, despite Johnny’s teasing about how it had no effect on is gaming skills. It was when Mark finally won a round that the front door of the pack house was tossed open. The front room was where the gaming set-up was, situated with the front door in the middle of the room, the staircase on the opposite wall leading to the upstairs bedrooms. The kitchen was visible through the office-space that was separated from the front room by a set of lovely glass french doors that Mark was surprised they hadn’t broken yet.  
Mark lived here with the pack, despite being entirely human. He had learned about the Underworld through a mishap with a rogue wolf that attempted to change him. Johnny had rescued him and brought him here under the assumption he was going to transform. It had taken them a month to realize the mistake and Johnny had said a big “whoops, my bad” before they unanimously decided Mark could stay. He had already learned the in’s and out’s by then and the pack had become attached, so he ended up with three new brothers and an incredibly large scar going down the front of his chest.  
Lucas was the one to throw the front door open, walking in with a loud greeting and the biggest smile to grace the earth, followed by a much more refined and elegant Ten, who closed the door softly behind him. Ten gave them a toothy smile that looked like an artists creation, following his boyfriend up the stairs.  
Ten was a vampire and Mark would’ve been able to guess that if they had bumped into each other on the streets. Ten felt timeless like a renaissance painting and he looked the part. His nose was curved and hooked at the end, eyes perfectly slanted and lined in thick lashes, with flawless skin that always shifted between incredibly pale and sunkissed perfection. He was short, shorter than Mark even, but he carried himself like a god and Mark could completely understand it. He was kind and polite and very sweet, with a wicked trickster side and an even poker face. He also had Lucas completely and utterly whipped, the man completely in love with his every facet. Ten, however, returned the feelings completely and, while he wasn’t the most overtly affectionate, it was clear that he cared a great deal for Lucas. Mark was incredibly happy for them.  
“Ready for round two?” Johnny nudged him, the older wolf grinning, “I can beat you again.” Johnny was incredibly tall, muscular, and handsome, but a complete goofball and dorkiest person Mark knew besides himself. Johnny was the closest thing to a brother or father figure that he’d ever had and he was ever grateful that Johnny took him in.  
“Let’s switch games,” Mark said finally, “We’ve been doing this forever. Let’s do something else.”  
“Alright you pick,” Johnny said standing, “I’ll go get us some popcorn.” 

Sicheng was breathing heavily, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, his body on fire. Yuta stood with his head pressed against Sicheng’s chest, breathing just as heavily. They stood together in the cramped area of a shed hidden behind the building where Yuta worked, the spot having been their designated private spot for ages now. Sicheng wasn’t sure why the dusty, dark shed was it, but it was private enough for them. There was no chance of anyone finding them in here, but Sicheng ached to hold Yuta in his bed. He craved the soft and intimate cuddles and quiet nights that other couples got. He yearned for the ability to hold his partner throughout the night and being able to wake up to them in the morning. For now, though, quick sessions in a musty shed would have to do.  
Sicheng pulled Yuta closer to him at the thought. Yuta tucked his head into his chest in response and Sicheng knew he had been thinking the same thing. “Someday, we will have a house together.” Sicheng promised out loud, “Someday we will have a house together and every morning I will make you a cup of tea and that sponge cake you love and we will watch morning cartoons and lay on the couch in pajamas. Maybe we’ll have some kits, who knows.” Sicheng was hopeful. He wanted children, Yuta wanted children. Everything would be perfect. “Someday we will have everything we could ever want.”  
Yuta buried his face deeper, inhaling. “I’ll leave the Brotherhood eventually.” It was a promise. A weak one, but a promise.  
“I know. And someday, I’ll convince my pack you’re not a threat.” That too was a weak promise.  
“How would you even explain this to them?” Yuta asked, his voice hitching. Sicheng hated talking about this, but he also loved it.  
“I’d tell them I fell in love.” Sicheng said simply. “They’d understand.”  
“Would they?” Yuta pulled back, eyes meeting Sicheng’s. Their breathing had stabilized and their sweat was drying, but the shed was still stuffy with the scent of sex and newfound misery.  
“They want me to be happy.” Sicheng insisted.  
Yuta pulled back, pulling up his pants from the ground, righting his clothing. “They want you to be happy with a fellow Were. Not me.”  
“They would get over it.” Sicheng insisted.  
Yuta looked desperate to believe him. Sicheng cupped his face, studying his face. Everything from his squared jaw, to round eyes, to the red bangs clinging to his forehead. “I don’t think they would.”  
“Then I will leave them, too.” Sicheng was a little more forceful with that answer. “I can’t lose you. Not you. Anyone but you.”  
Yuta nodded slowly. He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking the contact, “I need to tell you about some things that the Brotherhood figured out.” Sicheng took the moment he paused to pull his pants up, righting his own clothing as he stood under the only sunbeam in the shed leaking in through a grimy small skylight. He was always able to find the one sunbeam in a room, his cat side always unconsciously taking over. “They’re keeping tabs on a pack up North. They’re scrutinizing them harshly. They’re itching for a raid, which is ridiculous. We aren’t sport hunters, but some of the members are getting antsy since it’s been a while. Tell the pack up there to keep a reign on themselves and get ready to either fight or disperse because it’s gonna get triggered soon.”  
Sicheng nodded, taking in the information. “I’ll pass it onto Johnny and Lucas and see what they have to say. Thank you, Yuta.”  
Yuta cleared his throat, “Yeah, anytime.”  
Sicheng pulled him in for a long kiss, soft and deep and full of love, before they parted ways. Sicheng wasn’t sure how, but he had fallen in love with Yuta a while ago, the other man completely irresistible to him. Someday, he thought, he’d be able to tell his pack about him, though he doubted they would believe the story of the werecat that fell in love with a hunter.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed <3 (Unbeta'd/unedited- I'll edit later lol)


End file.
